


By The Anchor's Light (WIP)

by Lyslani



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyslani/pseuds/Lyslani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how it all begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Anchor's Light (WIP)

**Author's Note:**

> This is still a draft, so constructive criticisms and comments are welcome.

Commander Cullen had been searching with his men for hours now. The Temple of Secret Ashes was nothing more than a smouldering pile of rocks and debris. He had been in Kirkwall when the apostate had blown up the Chantry. He had seen devastation first hand but this... He rubbed his eyes with his hands. The sun would be setting soon, the search would have to be suspended. He knew there was nothing to find but death, but people needed hope. Needed to do something to cope with the immensity of this tragedy. Needed to busy themselves so as not to look up at the sky and weep in despair. He scanned the area in front of him, grunted, and started to search again.

The sun was starting it's descent behind the mountains. Cullen was about to call off the search when a scout came running towards him. “Commander! Sir! You must come, quick!”, she said urgently, before turning and half running, half looking back to see if he was following. He ran along after the scout until they reached what should have been the Temple's main hall. His people had gathered around something. Some were standing and whispering, some were kneeling in prayer. Three of his guards standing in the centre had their weapons drawn. Cullen frowned. As he got nearer, people made a space for him to pass. There, in the middle, was a body. A female body, lying face down. There was a greenish light coming from somewhere. No, not somewhere. From her.

“Report!”, he growled.  
“Sir, we... don't know, sir. We were coming back from our search area, and suddenly there was a.... rip! In the air! And there were 2 women, and this one was pushed out before the rip closed, sir!”  
“It was Andraste, sir! All in light, she was!” another one added.

Cullen approached the woman and knelt to examine her. He gently turned her to rest on her back and he caught his breath. She wasn't just an elf, she was Dalish. The delicate silvery tattoo on her forehead screamed apostate. She had no reason for being at the Conclave in the first place, much less lying in the ruins of the Temple. Her breathing was shallow. She seemed unhurt, but there was a slight frown on her brow. He let his eyes wander over her body to finally stop at her left hand. He gently caught her left wrist and turned her hand over. The light was shinning brightly. He couldn't look at it. It was magic, but nothing like anything he'd encountered before. “Be careful sir!” Cullen sighed. “Put your weapons away. You!,” he said, pointing to the scout who had come for him. “Go back to Haven and advise Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Leliana. Tell them we will need healers when we arrive.” Carefully, the commander picked up the unconscious elf in his arms. She whimpered softly. He readjusted her weight in his arms – surprisingly light - and started the long walk to Haven.

_Black. As much as she tried to concentrate, all was black. She could barely string two thoughts together. None of her senses were responding to her commands. She was being moved... perhaps carried? She was so tired, so heavy. And the pain! She cried out in agony and sobs racked her as every muscle in her body contracted. Her body jerked, but something held her. Strong arms? She was helpless, but somehow, she knew the danger had passed. She was still somewhat alive. That was something. The rest would have to wait as her mind slipped away into unconsciousness again._

As soon as the green light flared from her hand, she cried out. The commander stopped and knelt on the ground to look her over. The elf was in pain. Her whole body powerfully contracted and jerked. He held her tightly to him, securing her arms, his left arm across her shoulders and his right over her hip. He eased his hold when her spasms subsided. He hadn't had a woman in his arms in a very long time. “Maker's Breath! This was not the time to think about companionship, or lack thereof,” he chided himself. He took a deep breath, adjusted the weight in his arms again, got up and started to walk again. Her scent was clean and fresh, with hints of sandal and something floral. He clenched his jaw. Andraste preserve him!


End file.
